arV1762 Cornell University Library 3 1924 031 196 953 olin.anx Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 924031 1 96953 LECTUEES TO YOUTO MEiY, VARIOUS IMPORTANT SUBJECTS. HENET WAED BEECHER NEW EDITION, WITH ADDITIONAL LECTURES. BOSTON: TIOKNOR AND FIELDS. 1868, • KB Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by HENEY WARD BBECHEE, In the Clerk's OfBlce of the District Court for the Southern District of New York. TO LYMAN BEECHER, D. D. To you 1 owe more than to any other living heing. In childhood, you were my Parent ; in later life, my Teacher ; in manhood, my Companion. To your affectionate vigilance I owe my principles, my knowledge, and that I am a Mia ister of the Gospel of Christ. For whatever profit they derivs fi'am this little Book, the young will bo indebted to vo». PUBLISHERS' NOTICE. The new Edition of Beechee's LEoitiEBs to Toud&.Meit, now first offered to the public, has been enriched with two additional Lectures, viz. : " Relative Duties " and " Keligious Rectitude." The sale of more than fifPy fhoitsand copies of the previous editions is the best evidence of the merits of the book. The Hon. Judge John McLean says of it — " 1 lenow of no worh so admirably calculated, if read with at- tention, to lead young men to correctness of thought and ac- tion, and I earnestly recommend it to the study of every young man, who desires to' iecome eminently respectable a/nd ■mefuV « NOTICES OP THE THIED EDITION. [From the Olive Branch I "Beechek's Lscttjkes to Young Men. — One of the most iblc^ interesting and really useful works for young men is the volume of lectures addressed to them, by Henry Ward Beecher. Every young man should have a copy of it. The second edition is now before the public, published by John P. Jewett & Co., Salem." [From the New York Commercial Advertiser.] " "We have received ' Lectures to Young Men on Important Sub- lects,' by the Rev. H. W. Beecher, the second edition of a work that has already effected much good, and, we trust, is destined to achieve still more. The subjects are practical, such as concern all young men especially at the present day. The sentiments of the writer ire put forth with much conciseness and vigor of style, for Mr. Beecher writes like one in earnest. We could wish that every f oung man had the book put into his hands — especially every youth whose avocation or choice may lead him to reside in any of the arger cities of the Union." (From the Christian Observer, Philadelphia.] "Beecher's Lectitkes to YotJNG Men. — This is a new edition of an approved and excellent book, \#iich it affords us pleasure to recommend to young men in every part of the country. The author's thoughts, style, and manner, are his own ; and his vivid sketches of the evils and advantages which surround the young, are replete with important counsels and valuable instruction." [From the Christian IWirror, Portland, Maine.] "We have read the whole, and do not hesitate to endorse the strong recommendations of Western Presidents and Professors of Colleges, Judge McLean, and numerous clergymen, Presbyterians, Baptists, and Unitarians. Professor Allen, of Lane Seminary, ' knows of no book designed for young men worth half so much as this.' President Wylie says, it ' deserves a place on ihe shelf of every household in the land.' President AVhite says, ' it is not lesa mstruciive than the best of those which have preceded it, at the 2 NOTICES OF THE [From Dr. r. White, President of Wabash College, Crawfordsville, Indiana.) "Rev. H. "W. Bcecher's Lectures follow a long series of elaboratt and able works addressed to young men by some of our best wri tets. It is no small merit of this production that it is not less instructive and impressive than the best of those which have prece Oed it, at the same time that it is totally unlike them all. Mr. Beecher has given to young men most important warnings, and most valuable advice with unusual fidelity and effect. Avoiding the abstract and formal, he has pointed out to the young the evils and advantages which surround them, with so much reality and vividness, that we almost forget we are reading a book instead of looking personally into the interior scenes of a living and breaching community. These lectures will bear to be read often." [From Hon. John McLean, Judge of the Supreme Court of the United States.] " I know of no work so admirably calculated, if read with atten- tion, to lead young men to correctness of thought and action, and I earnestly recommend it to the study of every young man who desires 10 become eminently respectable and useful." [From E. W, Sehon, General Agent Am. Bible Society for the West.3 " The intention of the author is well preserved throughout this volunie. We commend the book for its boldness and originality of thought and independence of expression. The young men of our country cannot too highly appreciate the efforts of one who has thus nobly and affectionately labored for their good." [From James H. Perkins, Pastor of the Unitarian Church, Cincinnati, Ohio.} " I have read Mr. Henry W. Beecher's lectures to young men with a great deal of pleasure. They appear to me to contain advice better adapted to ow country than can be found in any similar work with tchich I am acquainted ; and this advice is presented in a style far better calculated trian that common to the pulpit, to attract and please the young. I s'lould certainly recommend the volume to any young man of my acquaintance as worthy of frequent perusal, and trust our American pulpit may ptoduce many others as pleasing and practical." (From T. R. Creasy, Pastor o( the Eirst Baptist Church, Cincinnati, Ohio.] "There is so much ignorance among good men in general, in qU our cities and large towns, of the astonishing prevabnce of vice, espu- FIRST EDITION. 6 cially of licenticusness and of its procuring causes ; and there is such a false delicacy on the part of those who know these things, to hold them up to the gaze of the unsuspecting, that this book will not pass for its real worth. But it is a valuable work. It speaks the truth in all plainness. It should be in every family library ; every young man should first read and then study it." [From J. Blanchard, Pastor of the Fifth Presbyterian Church, Cincinnati, Ohio.] "The book is both pleasing and profitable: filled with vivid sketches and delineations of vice ; weighty instructions, pithy senti- ments, delicate turns of thought, and playful sallies of humor ; and in style and matter is admirably adapted to the tastes and wants of the class for whom it is written." [From T. A. Mills, Pastor of the Third Presbyterian Church, Cincinnati, Ohio.] " The matter of this work is excellent and the style striking and attractive. The dangers of young men are vividly portrayed, and much moral instruction given. Many of the popular errors of the present day are handled as they deserve. No young man can read the book attentively >vlthout profit, and its perusal would prove advantageous even to those who are immersed in the cares and business of life. It will need no recommendation after it becomes hwwn." [From S. W. Lynde, Pastor of the Ninth Street Baptist Churcji, Cincinnati, Ohio.] " The Lectures to Young Men, by H. W. Beecher, appear to be well adapted to usefulness, and worthy of an extensive circulation." [From the Indiana Slate Journal.) " We have no doubt that these Lectures, as read, will produce 3 powerful impression. * # # # * "The pictures which glow from the hand of the artist arrest the eye, (so admirable is the style and arrangement,) nor will the interest once aroused slacken, until the whole sketch shall be con- templated. And the effect of the sketch, — like tliat of a visit to the dens of iniquity shorn of their blandishments, — cannot fail to be of the most wholesome admoaitory character."' [From the Daily Cincinnati Gazette.] "To fiiid anything new or peculiar in a work of this k'nd, now- a-days, would indeed be strange. In this respect we were agreeably surprised in looking over the book before us. The subjects, though 4 NOTICES OF THE FIRST .EDITION. many of them are common-place, are important and handle-! )n » masterly manner. The author shows himself acquainted with me world, and with human nature, in all its varying phases. ' He writes as one who has learned the dangers and temptations that beset the young, from personal observation, and not from hearsay." [From the Ohio State Journal, Columhua, Ohio.] " The garb in which the author presents his subjects, makes them exceedingly attractive, and must make his Lectures very popular, when the public shall become acquainted with them. When deliv- ered, it was not the design of the accomplished author to publish them ; but at the earnest solicitation of a number of prominent cit- izens of Indiana, who were convinced that they would have a highly beneficial influence in arresting the progress of vice and immorality, he prepared them for the press, and they are now published in a cheap and neat form ; the typography being highly creditable to the Western press." [From the Baplisi Cross and Journal, Columbus, Ohio.] " It is an excellent book, and should be in the hands of every young man, and of many parents. But few of those who are anxious to place their sons in large towns and cities, are aware of the temptations which beset them there, or of the many sons thus placed, who are unable to withstand these temptations. This work will open their eyes, and place them on their guard, it is written in a popular, captivating style, and is neatly printed. It goes right at the Bfesetting sins of the age, and handles them without gloves. It ought to be extensively circulated." [From the Cincinnati Daily Herald.] "Mr. Beecher looks at things in his own way, and utters his thoughts in his own style. His conceptions are strong, his speech direct and to the point. The work is worthy of anybody's perusal. " One thing more before we leave this book. It is entirely prae tical, and specially appropriate to the times — and its views, so far as we can speak from our o^vn perusal, are just, and very forcible." [From the Louisville Journal.] "It is the most valuable addition to our didactic literature thai has been made for many years. T,et all get it and read it rare fiiUy." PEEPACE. HATtNG watched the courses of those who seduce the yonng — their arts, their blandishments, their pretences : having wit- nessed the beginning and consummation of ruin, almost in the same year of many young men, naturally well disposed, whose downfall began with the appearances of innocence ; I felt an earnest desire, if I could, to raise the suspicion of the young, and to direct their reason to the arts by which they are, with such facility, destroyed. I ask every touso man who may read this book, not to submit his judgment to mine, not to hate because I denounce, nor blindly to follow me ; but to weigh my reasons, that he may form his own judgment. I only claim the place of a com- panion ; and that I may gain his ear, I have sought tn present truth in those forms which best please the young ; apd though I am not without hope of satisfying the aged and tie wise, my whole thought has been to carry with me the Mtelligeiit sympathy of touug men. PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION, It is proper to remark, that many of the statoiHimts in these Lectures, which may seem severe or overdrawn in New England, are literally true in the "West. Insensibility to pub- lic indebtedness, gambling among the members of the Bar, the ignoble arts of Politicians, — I know not if such things ar» found at the East, — but within one year past an edition of three thousand copies of these Lectures has been distributed through the "West, and it has been generally noticed in tha papers, and I have never heard objections from any quarter^ that the canvas has been too strongly colored. CONTENT.S. L E T U E E 1 . PAOB INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS, 15 LEOTUKE II. TWELVE CAUSES OF DISHONESTY, 49 LECTURE III. BIX WARNINGS 80 LECTURE ly. THE PORTRAIT GALLERY, 105 LECTURE V. GAMBLERS AND GAMBLING,.. 186 LECTURE YI, THE STRANGE WOMAN, 170 LECTURE VII. FOrULAR AMUSEMENTS, 213 LECTURE VIII. RELATIVE DUTIES,... 25J Missing Page Missing Page Missing Page Missing Page Missing Page Missing Page (D O) CO CL (Ji CQ Tl (Q CD LECTURE I. Give ng this day our dafly bread. Matt. t1. 11. XMb we commanded you, that if any would not work, neither should ha eat. For we hear that there are some who walk among yon disorderly, working not at all, but are busybodies. Now them that are such we command and exhort by our Lord Jesns Christ, that with quietness they work, and eat their own bread. 2 Tl^ess. iii. 10, 12. The bread which we solicit of God, he gives us through our own industry. Prayer sows it, and Industry reaps it. As Industry is habitual activity in some useful pursuit, so, not only inactivity, but also all efforts without the design of usefulness, are of the nature of Idleness. The supine sluggard is no more indo- lent than the bustling do-nothing. Men may walk much, and read much, and talk much, and pass the day without an unoccupied moment, and yet be sub- stantially idle; because Industry requires, at least, the intention of usefulness. But gadding, gazing, lounging, mere pleasure-mongering, reading for the relief of crarem, — ^these are as useless as sleeping, or dozing, or the stupidity of a surfeit. 16 INDUSTRY AND There are many grades of idleness ; and veins of it run throiigh the most industrious life. We shall indulge in some descriptions of the various classes of idlers, and leave the reader to judge, if he be an indolent man, to which class he belongs. 1. The lazy-man. He is of a very ancien-t pedi- gree ; for his family is minutely described by Solo- mon : How long wilt thou sleep, O sluggard 7 when wilt thou awake out of sleep 7 This is the language of impatience; the speaker has been trying to awaken him — ^pulling, pushing, roll ng him over, and shouting in his ear ; but all to no pu pose. He solil- oquizes, whether it is possible for the man ever to wake up ! At length, the sleeper drawls out a doz- ing petition to be let alone : " Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep ;" and the last words confusedly break into a snore, — that somnolent lullaby of repose. Long ago the birds have finished their matins, the sun has advanced full high, the dew has gone from the grass, and the labors of Industry are far in progress, when our sluggard, awakened by his very efibrts to maintain sleep, slowly emerges to perform life's great duty of feeding — with him, second only in importance to sleep. And now, well rested, and suitably nour- ished, surely he will abound in labor. Nay, the slug- gard will not phugh by reason of the cold. It is yet IDLENESS. 17 early spring ; there is ice in the north ; and the winds are hearty : his tender skin shrinlcs from exposure, and he waits for milder days, — envying the residents of tropical climates, where cold never comes, and harvests wave spontaneously. He is valiant at sleeping and at the trencher ; but for other courage, the slothful man saith, there is a lion without ; I shall be slain w? the street. He has not been out to see ; but he heard a noise, and resolutely betakes himself to prudence. Under so thriving a manager, so alert in the morning, so busy through the day, and so enterprising, we might anticipate the thrift of his husbandry. F went by the field of the slothful and by the vineyard of the man void of understanding ; and lo ! it was all grown over loith thorns, and net- tles had covered the face of it, and its stone wall was broken down. To complete the picture, only one thing more is wanted, — a description of his house, — and then we should have, at one view, the lazy- man, his farm, and house. Solomon has given us that also : By much slothfidness the building decay- eth ; and through idleness of the hands the house droppeth through. Let all this be put together, and possibly some reader may find an impleasant resem- blance to his own affairs. He sleeps long and late, he wakes to stupidity, with- indolent eyes sleepily rolling over neglected 2* i8 INDTJSTKY AND work , neglected because it is too cold in spring, and too hot in summer, and too laborious at all times, — a great coward in danger, and therefore very blus- tering in safety. His lands run to waste, his fences are dilapidated, his crops chiefly of weeds and bram- bles ; a shattered house, the side leaning over as if wishing, like its owner, to lie down to sleep; the chimney tumbling down, the roof breaking in, with moss and grass sprouting in its crevices; the well without pump or windlass, a trap for their children. This is the very castle of Indolence. 2. Another idler as useless, but vastly more active than the last, attends closely to every one's busi- ness, except his own. His wjfe earns tHe children's bread, and his ; procures her own raiment and his ; she procures the wood; she procures the water, while he, with hands in his pocket, is busy watch- ing the building of a neighbor's barn; or advising another how to trim and train his vines ; or he has heard of sickness in a friend's family, and is there, to suggest a hundred cures, and to do everything but to help ; he is a spectator of shooting-matches, a stickler for a ring and fair play at every fight. Ha knows all the stories cf all the famihes that live in the town. If he can catch a stranger at the tavern in a rainy day, he pours out a strain of information a pattering of words, as thick as the rain-droTM? out niLENESS. 19 of doors. He has good advice to everybody, how to save, how to make money, how- to do every- thing; he can tell the saddler about his trade, he gives advise to the smith about his work, and goes over with him when it is forged to see the carriage- maker put it on, suggests improvements, advises this paint or that varnish, criticises the finish, or praises the trimmings. He is a violent reader of newspa- pers, almanacs, and receipt books ; and with scraps of history and mutilated anecdotes, he faces the very school master, and gives up only to the volubility of the oily village lawyer, — few have the hardihood to match him. And thus every day he bustles through his multi- farious idleness, and completes his circle of visits, as regularly as the pointers of a clock visit each figure on the dial plate ; but alas ! the clock forever tells man the useful lesson of time passing steadily away, and returning never ; but what useful thing do these busy buzzing idlers perform 1 3. We introduce another idler. He follows no vocation; he only follows those who do. Some- times he sweeps along the streets, with consequen- tial gait ; sometimes perfumes it with wasted odors of tobacco. He also haunts surmy benches, or breezy piazzas. His business is to see; his desire to be seen, and no one fails to see him— so gaudily 20 INDUSTRY AND dressed, his hat sitting aslant upon a wilderness of hair, like a bird half startled from its nest, and every thread arranged to provoke attention. He is a man of honor; not that he keeps his word or shrinks from meanness. He defrauds his laundress, his tailor, and his landlord. He drinks and smokes at other men's expense. He gambles and swears, and fights — when he is too drunk to be afraid ; but still he is a man of honor, for he has whiskers and looks fierce, wears mustachios and says, " upon my honor ^ sir ;" "do you doubt ony honor, sir ? " Thus he appears by- day ; by night he does not appear; he may be dimly seen flitting; his voice may be heard loud in the carousal of some refection cellar, or above the songs and uproar of a midnight return, and home staggering. 4. The next of this brotherhood excites our pity. He began life most thriftily ; for his rising family he was gathering an ample subsistence; but, involved in other men's affairs, he Avent down in their ruin. Late in life he begins once more, arid at length just secure of an easy competence, his ruin is compassed again. He sits down quietly under it, complains of no one, envies no one, refuseth the cup, and is even more pure in morals, than in better days. He moves on from day to day, as one who walks under a spell, — it is the spell of despondency which IDLENESS. 21 nothing can disenchant or arouse. He neither seeka work nor refuses it. He wanders among men a dreaming gazer, poorly clad, always kind, always irresolute, able to plan nothing for himself, nor to execute what others have planned for him. He lives and he dies a discouraged man, and the most harmless and excusable of all idlers. 5. I have not mentioned the fashionable idler, whose riches defeat every object for which God gave him birth. He has a fine form, and manly beauty, and the chief end of life is to display them. With notable diligence he ransacks the market for rare and curious fabrics, for costly seals, and chains, and rings. A coat poorly fitted is the unpardonable sin of his creed. He meditates upon cravats, employs a profound discrimination in selecting a hat, or a vest, and adopts his conclusions upon the tasteful- ness of a button or a collar, with the deliberation of a statesman. Thus caparisoned, he saunters in fashionable galleries, or flaunts in stylish equipage, or parades the streets with simpering belles, or de- lights their itching ears with compliments of flattery, or with choicely culled scandal. He is a reader of fictions, if they be not too substantial ; a writer of cards and billet-doux, and is especially conspicuous in albums. Gay and frivolous, rich and useless, pohshed till the enamel is worn off", his whole life 22 INDUSTRY AND serves only to make him an animated puppet of pleasure. He is as corrupt in imagination as he is refined in manners ; he is as selfish in private as he is generous in public; and even what he gives to another, is given for his own sake. He worships where fashion worships, to-day at the theatre, to- morrow at the church, as either exhibits the whitest hand, or the most polished actor. A gaudy, active and indolent butterfly, he flutters without industry from flower to flower, until summer closes, and frosts sting him, and he sinks down and dies, unthought of and imremembered. 6. One other portrait should be drawn of a busi-' ness man, who wishes to subsist by his occupation while he attends to everything else. If a sporting club goes to the woods, he must go. He has set his line in every hole in the river, and dozed in a summer day under every tree along its bank. He rejoices in a riding party — a sleigh-ride — a summer- frolic — a winter's glee. He is everybody's friend — universally good-natured, — forever busy where it will do him no good, and remiss where his interests require activity. He takes amusement for his main business, which other men employ as a relaxation ; and the serious labor of life, which other men are mainly employed in, he knows only as a relaxation. After a few years he fails, his good nature is some-< . IDLENESS. 23 thing clouded, and as age sobers his buoyancy, without repairing his profitless habits, he soon sinks to a lower grade of laziness, and to ruin. It would be endless to describe the wiles of idle ■ ness — ^how it creeps upon men, how secretly it min- gles with their pursuits, how much time it purloins from the scholar, from the professional man, and from the artisan. It steals minutes, it clips off the edges of hours, and at length takes possession of days. Where it has its will, it sinks and drowns employment; but where necessity, or ambition, or duty resists such violence, then indolence makes labor heavy; scatters the attention; puts us to our tasks with wandering thoughts, with irresolute pur- pose, and with dreamy visions. Thus when it may, it plucks out hours and rules over them ; and where this may not be, it lurks around them to impede the sway of industry, and turn her seeming toils to subtle idleness. Against so mischievous an enchant- ress, we should be duly armed. I shall, therefore, describe the advantages of Industry, and the evils of Indolence. 1. A hearty Industry promotes happiness. Some men of the greatest industry are unhappy from infe- licity of disposition ; they are morose, or suspicious, or envious. Such qualities make happiness impos- sible under any circumstances. 24 INDUSTRY AND Health is the platform on which all happiness must be built. Good appetite, good digestion, and good sleep, are the elements of health, and Industry confers Ihem. As use polishes metals, so labor the faculties, until the body performs its imimpeded functions with elastic cheerfulness and hearty enjoy- ment. Buoyant spirits are an element of happiness, and activity produces them; but they fly away from sluggishness, as fixed air from open wine; Men's spirits are like water, which sparkles when it runs, but stagnates in still pools, and is mantled with green, and breeds corruption and .filth. The ap- plause of conscience, the self-respect of pride, the consciousness of independence, a manly joy of use- fulness, the consent of every faculty of the mind to one's occupation, and their gratification in it — these constitute a "happiness superior to the fever-flashes of vice in its brightest moments. After an expe- rience of ages, which has taught nothing from this, men should have learned, that satisfaction is not the product of excess, or of indolence, or of riches ; but of industry, temperance, and usefulness. Every village has instances which ought to teach young men, that he, who goes aside from the simplicity of nalure, and the purity of virtue, to wallow in ex- cesses, carousals, and surfeits, at length misses the IDLENESS. 25 errand ot his life ; and sinking with shattered body- prematurely to a dishonored grave, mourns that he mistook exhilaration for satisfaction, and abandoned the very home of happiness, when he forsook the labors of useful Industry. The poor man with Industry, is happier than the rich man in Idleness ; for labor makes the one more manly, and riches unmans the other. The slave is often happier than the master, who is nearer un- done by license than his vassal by toil. Luxurious couches — plushy carpets from oriental looms — pil- lows of eider-down — carriages contrived with cush- ions and springs to make motion imperceptible, — is the indolent master of these as happy as the slave that wove the carpet, the Indian who hunted the northern flock, or the servant who drives the pam- pered steeds'? Let those who envy the gay revels of city idlers, and pine for their masquerades, their routs, and their operas, experience for a week tlie lassitude of their satiety, the unarousable torpor of their life when not under a fiery stimulus, their des- perate ennui, and restless somnolency, they would gladly flee from their haunts as from a land of cursed enchantment. 2. Industry is the parent of thrift. In the over- burdened states of Europe, the severest toil often only suffices to make life a wretched vacillation be ■ 3 26 INDUSTKY AND tweeu food and famine ; but in America, Industry is prosperity. Although God has stored the world with an end- less variety of riches for man's wants, he has made them all accessible only to Industry. The food we eat, the raiment which covers us, the house which protects, must be secured by diligence. To tempt man yet more to Industry, every product of the earth has a susceptibility of improvement; so that man not only obtains the gifts of nature at the ■ price of labor, but these gifts become more precious as we bestow upon them greater skill and cultiva- tion. The wheat and maize which crown our ample fields, were food fit but for birds, before man per- fected them by labor. The fruits of the forest and the hedge, scarcely tempting to the extremest hun- ger, after skill has dealt with them and transplanted them to the orchard and the garden, allure every sense with the richest colors, odors, and flavors. The world is full of germs which man is set to develop; and there is scarcely an assignable limit, to which the hand of skill and labor may not bear the powers of nature. The scheming speculations of the last ten years have produced an aversion among the young to the slow accumulations of ordinary Industry, and fired them with a conviction that shrewdness,- cunning IDLENESS. 27 and bold ventures, are a more manly way to weaJth, There is a swarm of men, bred in the heats of ad- venturous times, whose thoughts scorn pence and farthings, and who humble themselves to speak of dollars ; — hundreds and thousands are their words. They are men of great operations. Forty thousand dollars is a moderate profit of a single speculation They mean to own the Bank ; and to look down, before they die, upon Astor and Girard. The young farmer becomes almost ashamed to meet his school- mate, whose stores line whole streets, whose stocks are in every bank and company, and whose increas- ing money is already well nigh inestimable. But if the butterfly derides the bee in summer, he was never known to do it in the lowering days of autumn. Every few years. Commerce has its earthquakes, and the tall and toppling warehouses which haste ran up, are first shaken down. The hearts of men fail them for fear; and the suddenly rich, made more suddenly poor, fill the land with their loud laments. But nothing strange has happened. When the whole story of commercial disasters is told, it is only found out that they, who slowly amassed the gains of useful Industry, built upon a rock ; and they, who flung together the imaginary mil- lions of commercial speculations, built upon the 28 INDUSTRY AND sand. When times grew dark, and the winda came, and the floods descended and beat upon them both — the rock sustained the one, and the shifting sand let down the other. If a young man has no higher ambition in hfe than riches, Industry — plain, rugged, brown-faced, homely clad, old-fashioned In- dustry, must be courted. Young men are pressed with a most unprofitable haste. They wish to reap before they have ploughed or sown. Everything is driving at such a rate, that they have become giddy. Laborioua occupations are avoided. Money is to be earned in genteel leisure, with the help of fine clothes, and by the soft seductions of smooth hair and luxuriant whiskers. Parents, equally wild, foster the delusion. Shall the promising lad be apprenticed to his imcle, the blacksmith? The sisters think the blacksmith so very smutty; the mother shrinks from the ungen- tility of his swarthy labor ; the father, weighing the matter prudentially deeper, finds that a whole life had been spent in earning the uncle's property. These sagacious parents, wishing the tree to bear its fruit before it has ever blossomed, regard the long delay of industrious trades as a fatal objection to them. The son, then, must be a rich merchant, or a popular lawyer, or a broker ; and these, only as the openings to speculation. IDLENESS. 29 Young business men are often educated in t-vro very unthrifty species of contempt ; a contempt for small gains, and a contempt for hard labor. To do one's own errands, to wheel one's own barrow, to be seen with a bundle, bag, or burden, is disrejni- table. Men are so sharp now-a-days, that they can compass by their shrewd heads, what their fathiirs used to do with their heads and hands. 3. Industry gives character and credit to the young. The reputable portions of society have max- ims of prudence, by which the young are judged and admitted to their good opinion. Does he regard his word 7 Is he industnmis 7 Is he economical 7 Is he free from immoral habits 7 The answer which a young man's conduct gives to these questions, settles his reception among good men. Experience has shown that the other good qualities of veracity, frugality, and modesty, are apt to be associated with industry. A prudent man would scarcely be persuaded that a listless, lounging fellow, would be economical or trust-worthy. An employer would judge wisely, that where there was little regard for time, or for occupation, there would be as little, upon temptation, for honesty or veracity. PiJfer- ings of the till, and robberies, are fit deeds for idle derks, and lazy apprentices. Industry and knarery are sometimes found associated: but men wonder 3* 30 INDtlSTKY AND Sit It, as at a strange thing. The epithets of society, which betoken its experience, are all in favor of Industry. Thus, the terms " a hard -working man ;" "an industrious man;" "a laborious artisan;" are employed to mean, an honest man; a trust-worthy man. I may here, as well as anywhere, impart the secret of what- is called good and bad luuk. There are men who, supposing Providence to have an im- placable spite against them, bemoan in the poverty of a wretched old age the misfortunes of their lives. Luck forever ran against them, and for others. One, with a good profession, lost his luck in the river, where he idled away his time a fishing, when he should have been in the ofiice. Another, with a good trade, perpetually burnt up his luck by his hot temper, which provoked all his employers to leave him. Another, with a lucrative business, lost his luck by amazing diligence at everything but -|[is business. Another, who steadily followed his trade, as steadily followed his bottle. Another, who was hcmest and constant to his work, erred by perpetual misjudgments ; — he lacked discretion. Hundreds lose their luck by indorsing ; by sanguine specula- tions ; by trusting fraudulent men ; and by dishonest gains. A man never has good luck who has a bad wife. I never knew an early-rising, hard-working, IDLENESS. 31 prudent man, careful of his earnings, and strictly honest who complained of bad luck. A good char- acter, good habits, and iron industry, are impreg- nable to the assaults of all the ill luck that fools ever dreamed of. But when I see a tatterdemalion, creeping out of a grocery late in the forenoon, with his hands stuck into his pockets, the rim of his hat turned up, and the crown knocked in, I know he has had bad luck, — for the worst of all luck, is to be a sluggard, a knave, or a tippler. 4. Industry is a substitute for Genius. Where one or more faculties exist in the highest state of development and activity, — as the faculty of music in Mozart, — invention in Fulton, — ideality in Mil- ton, — we call their possessor a genius. But a genius is usually understood to be a creature of such rare facility of mind, that he can do anything without labor. According to the popular notion, he learns without study, and knows without lea:ming. He is eloquent without preparation ; exact without calcu- lation; and profound without reflection. While ordinary men toil for know-cdge by reading, by comparison, and by minute research, a genius is sup- posed to receive it as the mind receives dreams. His mind is like a yast cathedral, through whose colored windows the sunlight streams, painting the aisles with the varied colors of brilliant pictures. Such minds may exist. 32 INDUSTRY ANP So far as my observations have ascertained the species, they abound in academies, colleges, and Thespian societies ; in village debating clubs ; in cbteries of young artists, and among young profes- sional aspirants. They are to be known by a reserved air, excessive sensitiveness, and utter indo ■ lence ; by very long hair, and very open shirt collars ; by the reading of much wretched poetry, and the wri- ting of much, yet more wretched ; by bemg very conceited, very affected, very disagreeable, and very useless: — ^beings whom no man wants for friend, pupil, or companion. The occupations of the great man, and ol the common man, are necessarily, for the most part, the same ; for the business of life is made up of minute affairs, requiring only judgment and diligence. A high order of intellect is required for the discovery and defence of truth ; but this is an unfrequent task. Where the ordinary wants of life once require recon- dite principles, they will need the application of familiar truths a thousand times. Those who en- large the bounds of knowledge, must push out with bold adventure beyond the pommon walks of men. But only a few pioneers are needed for the largest armies, and a few profound men in each occupation may herald the advance of all the business of society, The vast bulk of men are required to discharge IDLENESS. 33 the homely duties of life ; and thej nave less need of genius than of intellectual Industry and patient Enterprise. Young men should observe, that those who take the honors and emoluments of mechanical crafts, of commerce and of professional life, are rather distinguished for a sound judgment and a close application, than for a brilliant genius. In the ordinary business of life, Industry can do anything which Genius can do;.and very many things which it cannot. Genius is usually impatient of applica- tion, irritable, scornful of men's dulness, squeamish at petty disgusts: — it loves a conspicuous place, a short work, and a large reward. It loathes the sweat of toil, the vexations of life, and the dull burden of care. Industry has a firmer muscle, is less annoyed by delays and repulses, and, like water, bends itself U the shape of the soil over which ^ flows ; and if checked, will not rest, but accumulates, and mines t passage beneath, or seeks a side-race, or rises aboviJ and overflows the obstruction. What Genius per- forms at one impulse. Industry gains by a succes- sion of blows. In ordinary matters they differ only in rapidity of execution, and are upon one level before men, — who see the result but not the process. It is admirable to know that those things which in skill, in art, and in learning, the world has been 34 INDUSTRY AND unwilling to let die, have not only been the concep- tions of genius, but the products of toil. The mas- terpieces of antiquity, as well in literature, as in art, are known to have received their extreme finish, from an almost incredible continuance of labor upon them. I do not remember a book in all the depart- ments of learning, nor a scrap in literature, nor a work in all the schools of art, from which its author has derived a permanent renown, that is not known to have been long and patiently elaborated. Genius needs Industry, as much as Industry neerls Genius. If only Milton's imagination could have conceived his visions, his consummate industry only could have carved the immortal lines which enshrine them. If only Newton's mind, could reach out to the secrets of Nature, even his could only do it by the homeliest toil. The works of Bacon are not midsummer-night dreams, but, like coral islands, they have risen from the depths of truth, and formed their broad surfaces above the ocean by the minutest accretions of persevering labor. The conceptions of Michael Angelo would have perished like a night's phantasy, had not his industry given them permanence. From enjoying the pleasant walks of Industry we turn reluctantly to explore the paths of Indolence. All degrees of Indolence incline a man to rely IDLENESS. 35 upon others, and not upon himself; to eat thdr bread and not his own. His carelessness is some- body's loss ; his neglect is somebody's downfall ; his promises are a perpetual stumbling block to all who trust them. If he borrows, the article remains borrowed; if he begs and gets, it is as the letting out of waters — no one knows when it will stop. He spoils your work ; disappoints your expecta- tions; exhausts yeur patience; eats up your sub- stance ; abuses your confidence ; and hangs a dead weight upon all your plans ; and the very best thing an honest man can do with a lazy man, is to get rid of him. Solomon says : Bray a fool with a pestle, in a mortar with wheat, yet will not his folly depart from him. He does not mention what kind of a fool he meant ; but as he speaks of a foOl by preeminence, I take it for granted he meant a lazy man; and I am the more inclined to the opinion, from another expression of his experience : As vin- egar to the teeth, and smoke to the eyes, so is the sluggard to them that send him,. Indolence is a great spendthrift. An indolently inclined young man, can neither m^ake nor keep property. I have high authority for this : He that is slothful in his work, is brother to him that is a great waster. "When .Satan would put ordinary men to a crop 36 INDUSTRY AND of mischief, like a wise husbandm£.,n, he clears the ground and prepares it for seed ; but he finds the idle man already prepared, and he has scarcely the trouble of sowing ; for vices, like weeds, ask kttle strewing, except what the wind gives their ripe and winged seeds, shaking and scattering them all abroad. Indeed, lazy men may fitly be likened to a tropical prairie, over which the wind of temptation perpetually blow^', drifting every .vagrant seed from hedge and hill, and which — without a moment's rest through all the year — waves its rank harvest of luxuriant weeds. First, the imagination will be haunted with un- lawful visitants. Upon the outskirts of towns are shattered houses, abandoned by reputable persons. They are not empty, because all the day silent; thieves, vagabonds and villains haunt them, in joint possession with rats, bats, and vermin. Such are idle men's imaginations — full of unlawful company. The imagination is closely related to the passions, and fires them with its heat. The day-dreams of indolent youth, glow each hour with warmer colors, and bolder adventures. The imagination fashions scenes of enchantment, in which the passions revel ; and it leads them out, in shadow at first, to deeds which soon they will seek in earnest. The brilliant colors of far-away clouds, are but the colors of the storm; the salacious day-dreams of indolent men, IDLENESS. 37 rosy at first and distant, deepen ever^ day, darker and darker, to the color of actual evil. Then fol- lows the blight of every habit. Indolence promises without redeeming the pledge; a mist of forgetful- ness rises up and obscures the memory of vows anu oaths. The negligence of laziness breeds more falsehoods than the cunning of the sharper. As poverty waits upon the steps of Indolence, so, upon such poverty, brood equivocations, subterfuges, lying denials. Falsehood becomes the instrument of every plan. Negligence of truth, next occasional falsehood, then wanton mendacity, — these three strides traverse the whole road of lies. Indolence as surely runs to dishonesty, as to lying. Indeed, they are but different parts of the same road, and not far apart. In directing the con- duct of the Ephesian converts, Paul says, Let him that stole, steal no more, but rather let him, labor, working with his hands the thing which is good. The men who were thieves, were those who had ceased to work. Industry tvas the road back to honesty. When stores are broken open, the idle are first suspected. The desperate forgeries and swindlings of past years have taught men, upon their occurrence, to ferret their authors among the unemployed, or among those vainly occupied in vicious pleasures. 4 38 INDUSTEY AND The terrible passion for stealing rarely grows upon the young, except through the necessities of their idle pleasures. Business is first neglected for amusement, and amusement soon becomes the only business. The appetite for vicious pleasure out- runs the means of procuring it. The theatre, the circus, the card-table, the midnight carouse, demand money. When scanty earnings are gone, the young man pilfers from the till. First, because he hopes to repay, and next, because he despairs of paying — for the disgrace of stealing ten dollars or a thou- sand will be the same, but not their respective pleasures. Next, he will gamble, since it is only another form of stealing. Gradually excluded from reputable society, the vagrant takes all the badges of vice, and is familiar with her paths; and, through them, enters the broad road of crime. Society pre- cipitates its lazy members, as water does its filth ; and they form at the bottom, a pestilent sediment, stirred up by every breeze of evil, into riots, rob- beries and murders. Into it drains all the filth, and out of it, as from a morass, flow all the streams of pollution. Brutal wretches, desperately haunted by the law, crawling in human filth, brood here their villain schemes, and plot mischief to man. Hither resorts the truculent demagogue, to stir up the foetid filth against his adversaries, or to bring up mobs out IDLENESS. 39 ot this sea, which cannot rest, but casts up mire and dirt. The results of Indolence upon communities, are as marked as upon individuals. In a town of indus- trious people, the streets would be . clean ; houses neat and comfortable ; fences in repair ; school-houses swarming with rosy-faced children, decently clad, and well-behaved. The laws would be respected, Decause justly administered. The church would be thronged with devout worshippers. The tavern would be silent, and for the most part empty, or a welcome retreat for weary travellers. Grog-sellers would fail, and mechanics grow rich; labor would be honorable, and loafing a disgrace. For music, the people would have the blacksmith's anvil, and the carpenter's hammer ; and at home, the spinning- wheel, and girls cheerfully singing at their work. Debts would be seldom paid, because seldom made ; but if contracted, no grim officer would be invited to the settlement. Town-oflB.cers would be respectable men, taking office reluctantly, and only for the public good. Public days would be full of sports, without fighting ; and elections would be as orderly as wed- dings or funerals. In a town of lazy-men, I should expect to find crazy houses, shingles and weather-boards knocked off; doors hingeless, and all a-creak ; Vi' indows stuffed 40 INDUSlEy AND with rags, hats, or pillows. Instead of flowers ill summer, and warmth in winter, every side of the house would swarm with vermin in hot weather — and with starveling pigs in cold ; fences would be curiosities of lazy contrivance, and gates hung with ropes, or lying flat in the mud. Lank cattle would follow every loaded wagon, supplicating a morsel, with famine in their looks. Children would be ragged, dirty, saucy; the school-house empty; the jail full ; the church silent ; the grog-shops noisy ; and the carpenter, the saddler, and the blacksmith, would do their principal work at taverns. Lawyers would reign ; constables flourish, and hunt sneaking criminals; burly justices, (as their interests might dictate,) would connive a compromise, or make a commitment. The peace-officers would wink at tumults, arrest rioters in fun, and drink with them in good earnest. Good men would be obliged to keep dark, and bad men would swear, fight, and rule the town. Public days would be scenes of confusion, and end in rows ; elections would be drunken, illegal, boisterous and brutal. The young abhor the last results of Idleness ; but they do not perceive that the frst steps lead to the last. They are in the opening of this career; but with them it is genteel leisure, not laziness; it is relaxation, not sloth : amusement, not indolence. IDLENESS. 41 But leisure, relaxation, and amusement, when men ouglit to be usefully engaged, are Indolence. A spe- cious Industry is the worst Idleness. A young man perceives that the first steps lead to the last, With everybody but himself. He sees others become drimkards by social tippling, — he sips socially, as if Ae could not be a drunkard. He sees others be- come dishonest, by petty habits of fraud ; but will indulge slight aberrations, as if he could not become knavish. Though others, by lying, lose all charac- ter, he does not imagine that his little dalliances with falsehood will make him a liar. He knows that salacious imaginations, villanous pictures, har- lot snuif-boxes, and illicit familiarities, have led thousands to her door, whose house is the way to hell ; yet he never sighs or trembles lest these things should take him to this inevitable way of damna- tion! In reading these strictures upon Indolence, you will abhor it in others, without suspecting it in yourself. While you read, I fear you are excusing yourself; you are supposing that your leisure has not been laziness; or that, with your disposition, and in your circumstances, Indolence is harmless. Be not deceived : if you are idle, you are on the road to ruin : and there are few stopping places upon it. . It is rather a precipice, than a road. Wliile 1 4* 42 INDUSTRY AND point out the temptation to Indolence, ffcrntinize yout course, and pronounce honestly upon your risk. 1. Some are tempted to Indolence by their wretched training, or rather, wretched want of it. How many families are the most remiss, whose low condition and sufferings are the strongest induce- ment to Industry. The children have no 'inher- itance, yet never, work'; no education, yet are never sent to school. It is hard to keep their rags around them, yet none of them will earn better raiment. If ever there was a case when a Government should interfere between parent and child, that seems to be the one, where children are started in life with an education of vice. If, in every community, three things should be put together, which always* work together, the front would be a grogsfuyp, — the middle a, jail, — the rear a gallows ; — an infernal trinity , and the recruits for this three-headed monster, are largely drafted -from the lazy children of worthless parents. 2. The children of rich parents are apt to be reared in Indolence. The ordinary motives to industry are wanting, and the temptations to sloth are multiplied. Other men labor to provide a support; to amass wealth ; to secure homage ; to obtain power ; to multiply the elegant products of art. The child of affluence inherits these things. Why should ho labor who may command universal service, whose IDLENESS. 43 money subsidizes the inventions of art, exhausts the luxuries of society, and makes rarities common by their abundance? Only the blind would not see that riches and ruin run in one channel to prod- igal children. The most rigorous regimen, the most confirmed industry, and steadfast morality can alone disarm inherited wealth, and reduce it to a bles- sing. The profligate wretch, who fondly watches his father's advancing decrepitude, and secretly curses the lingering steps of death, (seldom too slow except to hungry heirs,) at last is overblessed in the tidings that the loitering work is done — and the estate his. When the golden shower has fallen, he rules as a prince in a court of expectant parasites. All the sluices by which pleasurable vice drains an estate are opened wide. A few years complete the ruin. The hopeful heir, avoided by all whom he has helped, ignorant of useful labor, and scorning a Knowledge of it, fired with an incurable appetite for vicious excitement, sinks steadily down, — a profli- gate, a wretch, a villain-scoundrel, a convicted felon. Let parents who hate their ofispring rear them to nate labor, and to inherit riches, and before long they will be stung by every vice, racked by its poison, and damned by its penalty. 3. Another cause of Idleness is found in the secret effects of youthful indulgence. The purest pleasures 44 INDUSTRY AND lie within the circle of useful occupation. Mere pleasure, — sought outside of usefulness, — existing by itself, — is fraught with poison. When its exhilar- ation has thoroughly kindled the mind, the passions thenceforth refuse a simple food; they crave and require an excitement, higher than any ordinary, occupation can give. After revelling all night in ■wine-dreams, or amid the fascinations of the dance, or the deceptions of the drama, what has the dull store, or the dirty shop, which can continue the pulse at this fever-heat of delight 1 The face of Pleasure to the youthful imagination, is the face of an angel, a paradise of smiles, a home of love ; white the rugged face of Industry, embrowned by toil, is dull and repulsive : but at the end it is not so. These are harlot charms which Pleasure wears. At last, when Industry shall put on her beautiful gar- ments, and rest in the palace which her own hands have built, — Pleasure, blotched and diseased with indulgence, shall lie down and die upon the dung- hill. 4. Example leads to Idleness. The children of industrious parents at the sight of vagrant rovers seeking their sports wherever they will, disrelish abor, and envy this unrestrained leisure. At ihe first relaxation of parental vigilance, they shrink from their odious tasks. Idleness is begun wh